


Toxic: A Dramione Fic

by intheshadowsfics



Series: Toxic: A Dramione Smut Romance [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forbidden Love, Harry Potter - Freeform, Multiple chapters, Mutual Pining, NSFW, Series, Sex, Smut, Underage - Freeform, dramione - Freeform, mature - Freeform, toxic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2020-03-07 06:31:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 16
Words: 19,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18867664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intheshadowsfics/pseuds/intheshadowsfics
Summary: (This work was named after the Britney Spears song.) Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger: Sworn enemies. The brightest witch of her age and the Slytherin prince. What happens when boredom, stress, hatred, and lust collide? Read on to find out. (This is my first fic, ever, and my first time posting. Feel free to leave comments, but please be gentle! Thanks, and I hope you like it!)





	1. Chapter One: A Secret Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first fic, and the first time EVER posting. I hope you enjoy! I'm really happy with it. For now, it's just a one-off, but I'm considering adding to it. Feel free to leave comments, but please be gentle! Please excuse the formatting issues, and please, no negative comments. I'm so happy to finally be sharing this with the world. It's dark, fucked up, and crazy, but it's mine and I'm proud of it. Thank you, everyone!

Toxic: A Dramione Fic

He wished that she would hurry up.

After all, hiding out in the restricted section late at night had been her idea.

Draco never would’ve guessed that the little Gryffindor had such a wild side. Part of him dreaded anyone finding out about the two of them; it would mean ruin on all sides.

But the risk was all part of the enjoyment of it all.

He was standing at the back of the room, concealed by a spell, reaching into his pocket and rubbing his wand out of habit. Impatience flared in his chest when he heard the library door creak open.

Heat coiled in his stomach, and he forced himself to stay still. Even after all of this time, his pride demanded that she come to him. 

Hermione slipped into the room, her footsteps silent, dressed in a cloak that blended in with the night’s shadows. She raised her head and lowered her hood, her eyes searching for his in the dark.

Draco flicked his wand, and the spell dissipated.

“I feel like you love making me wait,” He murmured, reaching for her.

“I can’t hear you around the silver spoon you love to suck on,” She quipped in reply, and he laughed, throaty and husky.

“I’d like you to suck something,” Draco purred, pulling her against him.

She laughed, and the sound lit him up. He wasn’t sure when these illicit, low-key trysts had begun, but he was addicted to her. It was a violation of everything he’d ever been taught.

But the sex was so fucking good, he’d stopped caring long ago.

“I’m the one who called you here,” Hermione reminded him, her voice so soft he had to lean in to hear her. “I’m stressed. Exams.”

“You’re telling me that you pulled yourself away from studying to fuck me stupid?”

Without letting her answer, he pulled her close and kissed her, slow and gentle at first, then hungry and deep.

Hermione cried out under the pressure of his lips, and he moaned, running his fingers against her scalp, smiling when she clawed at his clothes, running her fingers over his stomach.

He wanted to say that he missed her, but he didn’t want to break the spell.

Her fingers on his skin made his mind go blank; he loved the way that the world disappeared when she was in his arms. Draco found himself thankful that Quidditch kept him lean and strong. Fuck it all, he wanted to impress her.

Hermione tugged at his pants, growling, and he chuckled under his breath, unzipping his pants and stripping them off quickly.

He was gratified to discover that she had missed him too; they had a deeper connection that went beyond conversation.

Hermione cupped his ass and squeezed, and he shuddered, moving her shirt up so he could touch her breasts. He took one in his hand and ran a thumb over her nipple, smirking when he felt her twist against him.

“Do you like that, Granger?” He whispered in her ear, and she nodded, cheeks flushing. Her lips were parted, and she was panting hard.

Draco wrapped a hand around her neck, with just enough pressure to make her gasp; he wouldn’t hurt her; he didn’t even know if he could do that, even if she’d ask.  
“Draco,” She sighed, and the noise made his dick stand straight up.  
“What is it?” He whispered in reply, knowing what she wanted but wanting to hear the words.  
“I want you inside of me, Malfoy.”  
**  
After their fuck session, Draco lay on the floor, with her flush against him, holding him tightly. Her waves spilled across his chest, and he pulled her cloak over them both.  
Neither of them would dare stay the night here, but it had become habit to snuggle after everything.

Try as they might to pretend that this was just physical, that wasn’t the truth.

Despite their differences, they cared about each other: they’d both talked about how different their lives would been, if the Sorting Hat had put her in Slytherin. Hermione had ambition seeping out of her very pores.  
At times, Draco had been obsessively, insanely jealous of the Weasley boy. He had Harry Potter as his best friend, and who rounded out their group was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.  
Even now, he wondered if it had been the first time, he saw her, that he’d fallen for her. He was good at fronting at school, but at home, he was a pale imitation of what he projected at Hogwarts.

He found solace with her.

“I have to go soon,” Hermione murmured, and he shivered as her breath ghosted over his skin.  
“I know,” He replied, stroking her hair, sighing.  
“I really needed that, Draco. Thank you.”  
“Thank you, darling,” He said, kissing her ear, smiling to himself.  
As much as he wanted to be out in the open, he couldn’t help but treasure his time with her.  
**

The week of exams was a blur of mad studying and sleepless nights, and it passed without them seeing each other.  
Hermione was growing tired of such a long period between their rendezvous. Her grades were important to her, but Malfoy was one of the best forms of stress relief.  
On the way out of Potions, she’d slipped a note into his cauldron. Now that exams were over, she’d have a little free time.  
A rush of warmth swooped through her at the thought, and she tried not to let it show on her face.  
How had things ended up this way? Of all people to sleep with, her most hated Slytherin. But apparently, hate and lust made strange bedfellows.  
In the beginning, they both pretended that it was nothing more than boredom and hormones.  
But they’d both caught feelings a few months in. It had taken them more than a year to admit it to one another.  
It was a strange form of love, lust, and function. She’d often wondered what her like would have been like. If the Sorting Had had placed her in Slytherin, would she be the Head Girl? His better counterpart?  
Of course, it hadn’t excused his disgusting views about people such as herself. She had well and truly hated him through the years. But he had began to change. She knew that it wasn’t her influence, but she was in so deep now that she just took him. All of his parts, the things she loved and the things she hated.  
The promise of the late hours to themselves bolstered her through the day. She took a shower after she finished her homework, wishing that she could’ve taken a bath with Draco in the prefect’s bathroom.  
Some days were so stressful that it was the only bright spot on her horizon.  
Being the brightest witch of her age was far from easy. It was also exhausting.  
**  
That night, they met at midnight, tucked in a dark alcove close to the library. It made Hermione paranoid if it were closer to either one of their common rooms.  
“Exams go okay?” Draco murmured as he pulled her close, nuzzling into her neck.  
She shivered at his touch, at the ghost of his breath on her neck.  
“Skip the small talk until after,” Hermione ordered, and he smirked.  
He loved that they both had dominant personalities, always pushing against one another. Things were never boring; compared to every other sexual partner he’d ever had, male or female, she was perfect. Unforgettable.  
“Very well, my queen,” Draco whispered, reaching inside the waistband of her skirt. Much to his surprise, she was wearing nothing underneath. He gasped, and was rewarded with a breathless, husky laugh.  
“I’ve been thinking about this all week,” She whispered, and he smiled against her skin. It made him so happy, to know that he was constantly in her thoughts.  
In that case, he had to do his best to make her come. She’d been waiting.  
**

When Malfoy had her totally naked under her cloak, all rational thought disappeared. She didn’t feel the cold stone of the castle when he was touching her like this. He knelt before her, and before she could give him an order, he leaned in and took her breast in his mouth. He suckled her breasts, playing his tongue over the studs she’d pierced through her nipples.  
She was such a surprise, so unapologetically herself. It was intoxicating.  
Hermione Granger was fast becoming his favorite playmate, even if he couldn’t take her home to his traditionalist parents.  
“Oh, Draco,” She purred, laying her hands over his, on her generous hips. “You don’t play fair.”  
At these words, he pulled away, gray eyes burning silver in his lust.  
He lowered his head, and her hands twisted in his clothing, holding him fast, as if she were afraid, he’d leave her. It was tempting to let her smolder, to make her beg.  
But they’d both waited so long for this. It would be unkind.  
His mind made up, he dipped his head lower and kissed the inside of her thighs.  
She tasted delicious, like oranges and something sweet he couldn’t identify.  
She groaned softly, and he wanted to reach up and cover her mouth, muffle the sound.  
Tired of torture, he buried his face in her vagina and began to lick, an arm wrapped around her waist and the other hand lightly pinching her nipple. Oral was Hermione’s favorite, and he wanted to reward her for exams. She’d aced everything, he was sure of it. She grabbed his hand and sucked on his fingertips. He moaned; every single thing she did oozed sex appeal, and she didn’t even know it.  
He ate her out happily, her sounds giving him a huge hard-on. He longed to bury himself in her, preferably in her sweet little ass. But he could wait. Her pleasure was always first.  
“You’re fucking amazing, Malfoy, oh God,” She whimpered in a whisper, and he shuddered, feeling her clench, drinking her in. She tasted so good.  
“I can’t wait to fuck you,” Draco moaned, and she ground against him, soaking wet against his face.  
His tongue danced, and she gasped, her telltale sign that she was about to come.  
“Yes, darling, come for me,” He whispered, licking her frantically.  
At last, she gasped, throwing a hand over her mouth to quiet the sound.  
She moaned his name and he drank her down, to every last drop.  
**

They cuddled, lying down huddled in her cloak across the flagstones.  
She laid her head against his chest, and he held her tight, smiling as he stroked her hair.  
He could wait. He was just happy he’d relieved her stress.  
“Exams just make me nervous, that’s all.”  
**

Draco sneaked to the kitchens through the painting in the Hufflepuff corridor. (Curious about Ron’s brothers, the twins, he’d followed them once.) Hermione deserved some food, though she didn’t approve of the house elves.  
Even at this time of night, the house elves were hard at work, and Draco was soon sent away with a tray of food. Madam Pomfrey would murder him, but it was late, and his lady needed nourishment before she gave him what he waited weeks for. He might have been an asshole.  
But for her, he was a consummate gentleman.  
When he came back, wishing not for the first time that he could Apparate within the castle, he found Hermione curled under her cloak, still naked, in the fetal position, brows furrowed even in sleep.  
Draco found he didn’t have the heart to wake her; she looked so peaceful. And he could always finish himself later. His needs were not important. In the beginning, they had been.  
She had been such a thrill for him. A pureblood with him, sleeping with a Mud—A Muggleborn.  
Even in his head, that word felt wrong. Dirty.  
He’d been wrong. The way his family and their ilk lived—removed, prejudiced, longing for ‘the good old days’—was but a pipe dream.  
But then he’d found himself feeling for her. Truly loving her. He’d never felt like that about anyone else. She’d changed him, for the better.  
But the pressures placed on him by his family and society prevented them from truly being together.  
It just wasn’t fair.

**


	2. Chapter Two: A Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two of Toxic, A Conversation, is live! Thank you all for reading! Something has been weighing heavy on Draco Malfoy's mind. Tired of dishonesty and hiding his relationship with Hermione, he asks her a daring question. Read on to find out what it is! I hope you all enjoy it, and please feel free to leave comments, I'd love to know what you all think! This was just a one-off, initially, but because of all the enthusiasm and reception, I've decided to turn Toxic into a series! Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter of Toxic is live! Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy. I'm officially announcing Toxic is turning into a series, due to everyone's excitement! I hope you all enjoy it!

Chapter Two: A Conversation

Classes were a blur to Draco. Autumn was beginning to deepen into winter, the leaves turning crisp on the ground, and a glittering sheen of frost began to coat the stones of Hogwarts Castle. But even with the semester coming to a close, Draco was unable to focus on his studies. Something inside of him was changing, and a lingering question stayed on his mind.

He wanted to ask Hermione to come to spend Christmas at Malfoy Manor. He knew it was absolute madness, but he couldn’t shake it. As thrilling as it was, sneaking around and savoring Hermione as his dirty little secret, he was tired of hiding. Why should he? He might have been dating a Muggleborn, (he refused to use the other word he and his family had thrown around so freely) but she was the brightest witch of her age! She was a gorgeous, confident woman who saw the injustices of the world and refused to turn away from them, unlike his own family. The Malfoys had long overjoyed in the oppression in others they considered beneath them, and Draco was quickly growing tired of it.  
What if she refused him? She had every right to do so, and he wouldn’t blame her if she did. But perhaps if Hermione came home with him over the holiday, he could show his family a better way. A way away from Voldemort and his fanatical teachings.

It had been nearly a week since they’d seen each other, and he missed her terribly. It was a continuous ache, in his chest, his stomach, his groin, an insistent throb that refused to be ignored. The anxiety that had sprung up in his chest was such that he hadn’t felt since the first frenzied, passionate days of their affair. She’d sent a message saying she would meet him in the corridor of The Room of Requirement around eleven, and his every nerve was on alert.

Even his weekly classes with his favorite teacher, Professor Snape, didn’t cheer him as they usually did. His friends, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, were passing the time as most of their House did: tormenting and heckling the Gryffindors. Goyle was threatening Neville Longbottom, sneering at the other boy through gritted teeth. Blaise’s low laughter punctuated the physical threats, and Snape only smirked, watching them all as he gave a lecture on poisons and antidotes. Malfoy had a piece of parchment in front of him, but he was taking notes on autopilot.

His mind was full of Hermione and the burning question he had to ask her; everything that was happening around him sounded as though he were underwater. Muffled, muted. He put great value in his lessons and studies if only to make sure that his pathetic, sniveling coward of a father wouldn’t bother him so much. He could hear Lucius’s voice as if his father were standing right next to him.

If you want to succeed in this world, Draco, you must push yourself beyond your limits. You aren’t going to let an ugly, jumped up little Mudblood get the better of you, are you?

Draco found himself clenching his fists so hard he nearly snapped his quill in two. The stress of everything was becoming too much, and he could feel himself tiring of everything from his life. His pretense that he was better than everyone else, even among Slytherins, the way that he insulted Hermione and Potter and Weasley, all because Potter hadn’t chosen to shake his hand that first day at Hogwarts.

He was so tired of pretending, of hiding. That child who’d come to Hogwarts, ignorant of the real world, had died when he’d first said ‘I love you’ to Hermione Granger. He wanted to be a better man for her, wanted to be the beau that she truly deserved. It embarrassed him to admit it, even to himself, but he wanted everything with her. The kids, the house, the pets, the white picket fence. It almost made him laugh, how different things were now, compared to when he’d first come here.

He was changing, he hoped, for the better.

**  
Hermione waited in the Room of Requirement, fidgeting. Draco had made her nervous; he was acting so strange recently, not at all like himself. He’d said that he needed to ask her something, and it was important.

Hermione being who she was, her mind jumped to every possibility she could imagine. Was he breaking up with her? Did he regret their relationship, their friendship? Did he hate her? Maybe something was going on at home, not that she cared. She’d made no attempt to hide her hatred of the elder Malfoys. They were part of the reason the Wizarding world was so fucked up. Racist, xenophobic assholes who should have had no say in how the world was governed, they were no less than enemies of justice and harmony in Hermione’s mind.

She was broken out of her anxious thoughts by faint footsteps. She held her breath, hoping and praying that it was Draco and not a teacher doing a routine night patrol. But her fears were unfounded, because Draco quickly waved his wand, and materialized in front of her.

“Hermione,” He whispered, hugging her tightly and holding her against his body. She melted into him, hugging him back. “I… I need to ask you something.”

His voice trembled, and she looked up at him, biting her lip. He was unusually pale, and his gorgeous gray eyes were ringed with dark circles as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. His normally sleek blond hair was disheveled and slightly greasy.

“Well, spit it out,” She said, trying not to show her growing impatience. “You’re scaring me.”

“Hermione, will you come to the Malfoy Manor for Christmas with me? I love you, and I’m tired of hiding what we are to each other. I want you to meet my family.”

**


	3. Chapter Three: An Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco asks Hermione an important question, and she answers. What does she say? Read on to find out! Looking forward to hearing your comments, and I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading, folks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter took a bit longer to be written because I'm going through a lot of personal stuff right now, and I'm trying to keep my head up. I hope you like it, thanks for reading! Feel free to leave comments! Thanks for sticking with me through my first fic. I'm really proud of it, and it makes me so happy to come back to it, knowing that people out there are loving it. Love you guys! <3

Chapter Three: An Answer

Hermione blinked, unsure if she’d heard him correctly. Did he actually just say he wanted to take her home to his parents? Unable to focus, a large, clawfoot tub appeared in front of them, already full of hot, soapy water. Rose petals dotted the steaming surface.

“Let’s get into the tub and then we can talk about it,” She said, and much to her relief, he obeyed, stripping off his clothes and slipping into the tub. Water sloshed over the sides, but he paid no heed to it as Hermione unrobed and got in, leaning against him. The warmth relaxed her slightly, but she knew all too well that she was avoiding the question.  
Was this a joke? A prank? Her thoughts raced, and she found herself despising the part of herself that was riddled with anxiety.

“Please, darling, say something,” Draco murmured into her hair, taking her shoulders gently and rubbing them. “I’ve never known you to be this quiet so long. Not without a book in your hands, anyway.”

She laughed, unable to help herself, and his answering chuckle made her heart flutter.

“Are… Are you serious, Draco? You want me to come home for Christmas with you?” She murmured, and her voice seemed amplified in the cavernous room. With a thought, candles appeared on both sides of the tub, already lit, all of different sizes. “To meet your parents.” Some of the worst people in the world, aside from Voldemort, she thought but didn’t say.

“I wouldn’t joke about this, Jean,” Draco said, his hands roaming over her back, her shoulders, her neck, gentle but firm, relieving all of the pressure from class and SPEW. “I love you. And I think that you being at the manor will show them that their way of life is wrong. Our way of life is wrong. But if you don’t want to, I won’t pressure you. Just think about it for me? Please?” He kissed the damp, fragrant skin of her bare shoulder.

Hermione found herself nodding. “Give me a few days, please. Now that exams are over… And I’d have to talk to my parents.”

“Take all the time you need, my love,” He replied, gently twisting her lovely brown waves into a bun at the top of her head. “God, you look beautiful in the candlelight.” He kissed the back of her neck, her shoulder blades, and she sighed, leaning into him.

“I’m so glad exams are over, I’ve been so stressed.”

“Nothing a long, hot bath shouldn’t be able to fix,” He said, and she smiled, loving the feeling of the hot, steamy water and Draco wrapped around her.  
“I needed this,” She admitted finally. “I needed you.” She hated saying the words aloud, even after all this time, but she couldn’t lie to him. She couldn’t lie to anyone; she was too honest for that, but especially not him. He loved her, respected her. Was that why he was so eager to make their relationship public? To show that, to prove it, their bloodlines and society be damned?

They’d both changed, as much as she was loathe to admit it, even to herself.

But she wasn’t naïve. She wasn’t stupid. Even if things worked out, happily ever after, as neatly and cleanly as an ending in one of her treasured books, it wouldn’t fix the cracked foundation upon which the Wizarding world had been built. Voldemort was gaining power, and Draco and his family, as well as countless other purebloods, were helping him do it. It was only a matter of time, even if she, Ron, and Harry were successful in their mission of defeating Dumbledore’s enemy.

It scared her. She knew that she had to end things eventually; she’d long ago made the decision that she would be at Harry’s side until the last possible moment, when the time came. But she didn’t want to. She couldn’t. Wasn’t she allowed a single thing for herself? A secret, moments stolen in dark alcoves and broom closets and here, in The Room of Requirement?

But perhaps Draco was trying to prevent all of that. Change, Hermione knew, from studying both Wizard and Muggle history, was gradual, in tiny increments that could not be measured so easily.

Perhaps she needed to take the first step in order to change destiny.

Much to her relief, Draco didn’t bring it up again; he seemed happy to let it rest, now that he’d asked her.

For once, they didn’t have sex; they both craved intimacies outside of that, and Hermione was glad. This was enough, and she already had too much on her mind to attempt anything else.

“Are you reading Hogwarts: A History again?” Draco teased her, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Surely you’ve got it memorized by now.”  
She shrugged in answer. “It doesn’t matter how many times I read it. I always find something new. And considering I live here three fourths of the year; I like being informed. This castle has so many secrets. And I’d like to find them before I graduate and become Minister of Magic.” She smiled, and he didn’t laugh. He just watched her, fingers rubbing the tension out of her body, his eyes as soft and tender as she’d ever seen them.

“You will become Minister of Magic,” He whispered. “I know you will.”

She leaned back into him and raised her head, kissing the bottom of his chin.

“What will you do after school, Draco? What do you want?” She asked.

He blinked, and his brow wrinkled, pursing his lips. “I don’t know. Nobody’s asked me that before.” He laughed, a little sadly, and Hermione’s heart broke at the sound.  
“All of my family expects me to uphold the tradition. Marry a pureblood, have some children, become one of The Dark Lord’s soldiers.” The title slipped out unbidden, and Hermione frowned, watching him. She couldn’t fault him entirely for his behavior; he’d been indoctrinated from the time that he was a toddler, surely.

“But what do you want?” She pushed, making sure to tread lightly. She sensed that this was difficult for him, and she didn’t want to hurt him.

They already took so many risks. It was unfair to add another.

“A simple life. With a woman who loves me, children that we can raise to be good people. I could be a wandmaker,” He said shyly, shrugging his shoulders. “I haven’t really thought about it, to be honest.”

“Well, you should. Your life is yours, and you should do what you want with it, Draco.” Hermione said, as if it were simple, as if it were that easy, to will into life. “I’ll help you.”

He kissed the top of her head, grateful but silent.

They stayed in the tub until the water began to cool, and they dried off. Exchanging soft, tender embraces and sweet, slow kisses, they parted ways, both of them full of doubt and questions and love.

**


	4. Sugar and Spite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione begins to think over Draco's invitation, as well as return to her normal self around Harry, Ron, and the rest of Gryffindor House. Will she choose to go to Draco's house, The Burrow, or to spend the holidays with her parents at Heathgate? Read on to find out! I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fourth chapter, Sugar and Spite, is now live! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! I don't want to say too much, only that I'm kind of going through some personal stuff right now, so chapters may be a bit slow in coming from here on out. Thanks for your patience and understanding, and please feel free to tell me what you think!

Chapter Four: Sugar and Spite

Hermione was plagued by Draco’s proposal. 

Even though she went about her studies and classes as normal, her mind was running at a million miles an hour. She didn’t know what to think; she only knew that Draco had meant it.

Did she dare to step into the house that Draco’s ancestors had lived in for generations?

Hermione both thrilled and dreaded it. To see the shock on his parents’ faces, to know that the brightest witch of their child’s generation stepped over their threshold. She had to bite her lip to stifle her laugh. But the thought of her parents in their little cottage in Hampstead, with their only company one another, chilled her as much as the snow falling in flakes outside.

They didn’t even know that their daughter was sleeping with Draco Malfoy. They knew of him, and his family, but Hermione tried not to talk about them, or the systematic oppression of Muggleborns. There was enough to worry about, and she could take care of herself.  
But maybe this was a step in the right direction, this invitation. She was being ushered into the inner sanctum, the hierarchy of the Wizarding World. What better way to engineer change than at the top?

But part of her worried over the fact that she was going to step into the top tier, the equivalent of royalty.

Still, she hadn’t been Sorted into Gryffindor House for nothing. Before she’d realized what had fully happened, she decided that she would go. She would have to write to her parents to ask for permission, but she wasn’t going to cower. She liked to think that Godric Gryffindor himself would be pleased with her placement.

She longed for the fire in the common room, for the long, hot bath she’d indulged in with Draco three days ago. She loved the winter because her family’s favorite holidays had been throughout the autumn and the following season. Even after they’d discovered the Wizarding World together, they hadn’t forgotten their own Muggle holidays. From Halloween through the New Year, the Grangers grew evermore tight-knit.

But now, the winter was her favorite because of all the memories she shared with Draco. Hot butterbeer brought back from Hogsmeade, mugs of hot chocolate split after passionate, frenzied kisses and secret handholds in dark corners, chicken soup when she was ill with a cold, and hot baths after long days of studying and watching Quidditch matches.

Hermione loved Harry, Ron, and her friends in her House, but it made her heart glow with joy to see Malfoy up in the sky. Both he and Harry found such freedom and happiness when they were off the ground. She smiled to herself, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

How odd, that these parts of her life were so close to intersecting.

She said the password at the portrait of The Fat Lady, automatically, not really paying attention to who was on the other side of it. She was so lost in her own thoughts she almost ran into Harry.

“Hermione!” Her best friend said, grinning at her. “Where have you been? It’s almost dinner time. Ron and I haven’t seen much of you lately. Are you worried about how your exams went?”

Hermione smiled, brought back to herself at Harry’s words. It didn’t surprise her at all that he was thinking of her; Harry was a dolt sometimes, but most of the time he was very thoughtful. It was one of the things she loved about him.

“Just trying to do some reading in the library,” She lied smoothly. “Been trying to relax.”

She didn’t have the courage to admit to either he or Ron that she’d formed a relationship with their most hated nemesis. Maybe it was cowardly of her, but she just couldn’t. Not yet.

“Why don’t you drop your books off in your room and we can walk down to The Great Hall together? I’m sure you’re hungry,” He grinned at her, eyes twinkling. She couldn’t refuse him.

“Give me just a minute,” She said, and ran up the stairs, putting her bag on her bed. Tucking her wand into her robes, she went downstairs, and they walked to dinner together in companionable silence.

She’d missed Ron and Harry. Most of her time went to her studies and Malfoy, but she still had a little time to help them with their homework. Those boys of hers were always procrastinating, but she couldn’t just leave them in the lurch.

They reached the warmth and brightness of The Great Hall, and Hermione was immediately comforted. Ron was already seated with the twins and Ginny, and he smiled affably at his friends.

“Hey, Harry! Hermione. How was your day?” Ron was in a good mood, digging into a dish of shepherd’s pie.

Harry went on about Potions that day; he worked himself into quite a lather, talking about how Snape had unfairly penalized him on a question he was certain he’d had right, and Hermione agreed with him heartily. Despite her respect for authority, Muggle and Wizard, she knew that Snape held an unhealthy grudge against Harry for some reason.

Harry stabbed his spoon into his bowl of beef stew, scowling faintly.

“Hermione, what’s been going on with you?” Ron asked, pushing his plate away and taking a sip of water. “Have you decided what you’re going to do for the holidays? You and Harry can always come and stay at The Burrow. Mum and Dad are happy to have guests.”

Hermione smiled; she’d been expecting that. “I think I might spend the holidays with my parents this year. But I’m not sure. Can I think about it and let you know?” It was only the second week of December; they had plenty of time to think about where they were spending their break. But her mind was all but made up now.

 

She had to tell Draco, and soon. But the boys already seemed suspicious. As much as she wished she could share her news, Hermione knew that she had to be cautious. It would not do to lose herself this close to the term ending, for either of them.

“Of course,” Ron said, grinning at her over the rim of his water goblet.

It went without saying that Harry would accompany Ron home from Hogwarts; who wanted to spend Christmas with the awful Dursleys?

Hermione did her best to remain present and alert through dinner, and when Ginny struck a conversation with her, she was grateful.

It was a relief, falling back in with her classmates. She could step back from that secret, dark part of herself and reestablish her normal routine.

But she couldn’t ignore that yearning ache in her heart, and it visited her in the early hours of the morning, or in the thin veil between sleep and wakefulness.

She wondered what would happen at Malfoy Manor. If they would dare to be together under his parents’ roof. The thought brought a smile to her face. It was almost a reality, and the more she thought about it, the more determined she became to see this through.

She would stand proud against the Malfoys and everything they represented. She would walk into their midst with her head held high. She would not show her fear.

And she wasn’t doing this for Draco. She was doing this for herself. What better way to show herself to a bunch of bigoted, old-school magic folk? Purebloods.

Yeah, she had to do this. Just to show herself that she could.

**


	5. Conflict and Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angst! Longing! Doubts and questions! Forbidden love and frightening choices for the future, in this, the fifth chapter of Toxic, Conflict and Longing! Also, lots and lots of pining. Sorry, not sorry! I'm just loving this, and I hope you all are as well! It's a bit short, but I hope you all enjoy it. Love you all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I just kind of let loose on this one. If you haven't figured it out, angst and slow-burn and enemies to lovers are primary themes in my works, and I hope you all love this brand new chapter. It's a bit short, but I promise I'm leading up to sexy times and lots of surprises! I've had a lot of fun writing this fic, and I hope you all love it as much as I do. I love you all and thanks for reading!

Chapter Five: Conflict and Doubt 

Draco found himself worrying. It had been a little under three days since he’d asked her to come home with him, and she hadn’t yet reached out to him. Of course, she would very likely busy, and he knew that he needed to stay focused. They weren’t finished yet. He stared out the windows of the library, hunched over his texts.  
He could hear his mother in his head, chastising him for slouching.

“You’ll never appeal to a woman if you walk about hunchbacked. You’re a Malfoy, with a proud heritage, and you will meet the world with your head held high!”

Logically, he knew that she didn’t mean to be cruel; she was just trying to cling to her traditions, however outdated they were. But he still rebelled. Loving Hermione had been the event that tipped him over the edge, but for years he’d harbored doubts. For all their preaching and wealth and excess, the world they spoke of was rapidly fading. And the sooner his misguided family realized that, the better off everyone would be.

They all had enough blood on their hands as it stood.

Was he asking too much of Hermione, requesting that she follow his lead into a den of vipers? He knew that she could handle it; her soul was made of steel, and magic was in her blood, Muggleborn or not. If anyone could help him burn down the injustice that reigned over their world, it would be Hermione Granger. He’d never met such an empathetic, tenderhearted person before her. It inspired him to be a better man.

His priorities had changed. His darker deeds were by no means atoned for, but he had to start somewhere. And this was the first step in the right direction. He had to do his part if he was ever going to make up for his unforgivable cowardice. He’d been so lucky, being born in his position. He was shielded from all, and he’d taken blatant advantage of the privilege he was gifted. It was wrong. He was tired of his weak, half-formed façade he tugged along with him like a ghost. Maybe this was the beginning of the end: to save his family, or to leave them to their lots as servants of Voldemort. His brain seemed to lose focus at this last thought. It had taken his every shred of strength to not think of him as the ‘The Dark Lord’.

All his life, his parents had beat into his head that Voldemort was a savior, a true wizard, that he supported freedom and equality for all. What he hadn’t realized until later was that he fought for the rights of wizards only, and only those that supported pureblood ideology. Never mind that more of the old, ‘proud’ lines were fast dying out, and that staying within the family was an old Muggle custom. (Of course, Hermione had been the one to tell him that.)

They all were such hypocrites, following blindly a monster of a man who would gladly sacrifice them to save himself. Then again, weren’t their peers the same, just with Albus Dumbledore?

God, he wanted Hermione now more than ever. She could distract him from his thoughts, as conflicted as they were. He wished it were night, and that she was in his lap, kissing his neck with her sweet, soft lips, coaxing him back to the present.

How had his life come to this? How could he have ever imagined that he would be yearning to love her, every second of every day? If he’d been told that he would be in Hermione Granger’s thrall, he would’ve laughed until his sides split. But here he was, living in this strange, delicious alternate reality.

He found that he just couldn’t focus anymore, and so he gave up. Closing his books and stuffing them back into his bag, he set off toward The Great Hall for a late dinner, stewing. Draco’s anxious mind just wouldn’t quiet. By the time he sat down at the table, he was grinding his teeth.

Luckily for him, most of the Slytherins had retired to the dungeon common room, and the ones who were left were too being studying to do more than nod at him. He pulled a plate piled high with roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, gravy and mash. Normally he was all about eating healthy, but tonight he just couldn’t bring himself to care. He ate mechanically, without tasting much.  
He was so absorbed in his own thoughts he almost missed Hermione leaving the Hall with Harry and the Weasleys. She was standing up, walking arm in arm with Ron’s only sister.  
Their heads were close together, and Hermione laughed. Her bright eyes lit up, and her shoulders shook.

Draco longed for her in his arms, but he smirked in their direction. Potter and Weasley bowl scowled darkly, but his beloved di not so much as look in his direction. He knew she was merely keeping up appearances, but it still cut him.

How had he become so lovelorn, so easily smitten with her? Enough that he’d begged her to come home with him. And he still had no idea what she would say. Understandably, she’d been hesitant. Patience had never been one of Draco Malfoy’s virtues, but more than anything, he hated waited for her. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted to spend every moment loving her, for as long as he could.

There was a faint, dark pall on the shadow of their happiness, try as he might to ignore it. They were heading in opposite directions; she would go on with Potter and Weasley and change the world. And eventually, somehow, he would be serving Lord Voldemort. It was already set in stone.

But he would spend every waking moment fighting it. Changing it into something he wanted, something he recognized.

**


	6. Chapter Six: Making Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Six, Making Arrangements, is now live! Hermione finally makes up her mind and decides to surprise Draco with something special, as well as her answer. She begins to prepare for the Christmas holidays, and Draco has a surprise run-in with a fellow Slytherin he hasn't spoken to in a while. Togetherness, secrets, worry, and more than a little angst lead up to the winter festivities, and I hope you all love reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Love you all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back, did you miss me? As I've said, I'm going through a lot of shit, so I apologize for the wait and greatly appreciate your patience. I had every intention of writing sexy times into this chapter, but I decided to save that for a bit later in the story. You'll have your smut with some substance, lol. But the next chapter will contain some sexy times and more than a few surprises, and I hope that this is a great appetizer! Please feel free to comment with your thoughts. I love you all; if not for the enthusiasm of this community, this story wouldn't exist. Thank you all so much, and enjoy!

Chapter Six: Making Arrangements

Hermione left Draco a note, tucked into a book at the library, to meet her in the Room of Requirement at eleven. She wanted to surprise him, as she’d officially made her decision and mailed a letter to her parents. She’d told them she was staying at The Burrow with Harry and the Weasleys; she didn’t like lying to them. But she’d already made her choice, and she wasn’t about to back down. She was about to crack the very bedrock that The Wizarding World stood upon.  
What she really wanted to do was go out, cuddle up in some warm, cozy shop in Hogsmeade, and have a decadent dinner to share. But she’d sensed that he wasn’t quite ready to go public, and she wasn’t either, If she was being honest with herself. There would be time for that after they returned to school. But she could make due with what she had. That’s what she always did, and what she prided herself on. She was frugal and economical.

She found herself wanting to cook for Draco. Would it be possible for The Room of Requirement to conjure up a modest kitchen, as well as a pantry and fridge? Perhaps they could have their own private Christmas dinner before they even left the castle. Despite the uncertainty, she found herself comforted, doing through the familiar motions of menu planning. She’d volunteered to be the cook when she was at home; it centered her, reading a recipe and gathering ingredients, following directions. It gave her pleasure to imagine what Draco would like to eat.

A warm minestrone soup with crusty bread and topped with cheese, or shrimp cocktail. Steak for the main course and protein, some vegetables to finish the plate, and something creamy for dessert. She smiled; the task of menu planning soothed her. And if she were honest, she couldn’t wait to see the look on Draco’s parents’ faces when she walked into their home. She was excited to muddy their waters, to see the shock in their eyes when she infiltrated their own inner circles. It turned out that she did have quite the rebellious streak, and this time she let it give her courage.

Usually her heart didn’t lead her wrong, even if it had been a bit skewed recently.

She readied herself for the trip by beginning to pack, fending off questions for her holiday plans from Ginny.

“I haven’t decided yet, but you know how I like to be prepared,” Hermione said, smiling as she plucked some clothes from her closet and folded them neatly. They were too staid and plain, too ordinary, even by her own standards. The nicest gown she owned she put in a garment bag, a gorgeous cocktail dress that her parents had bought her last Christmas, an emerald confection with a full, sparkling skirt. It was a bit feminine for her taste, but it was lovely regardless.

But even packing, planning a meal, and a jumpstart to some classwork, her mind was still preoccupied. She hated to be away from Draco from any amount of time, and it had almost been a week. She’d tried making a nest in one of her favorite novels, but she was too distracted to focus.

God, this was all so infuriating. She was tired of hiding, of pretending. One of the things she’d always prided herself on was being true to herself. Was that being compromised, even if for love? Perhaps it was too late to be thinking of such things, but Hermione couldn’t help herself.

Then she thought of Harry, who had made countless decisions that had, in the end, scarred him, cut him, more often than not. What mattered was what would come next, the person she’d become in her pursuit for equality in The Wizarding World. She’d always known, even before he and Ron, that she, too, would become a hero. Perhaps that was conceited, but she was the brightest witch of her age, and she’d always cared about making the world a better place.

That was what mattered, above all. It would be up to her to be the one who changed things. And she found that she enjoyed looked down the barrel of a gun immensely. She never backed down from a fight.  
**

Draco got a few hurried hours of sleep, restless though they were. He’d found the note that Hermione had hidden away for him, and most of the day disappeared for him after that. He imagined her in his arms, in his bed. She’d hinted at a surprise, and to meet her in the usual place. They could both figure out other hiding places, but this was easiest for them, recently.

What kind of surprise was she planning for him? Could it be that she accepted, that she would be accompanying him home? He found himself smiling at the thought, and his chest gave slightly in premature relief. She trusted him enough that she would follow him into one of the most dangerous places in their world. Especially for her. His skin tingled at all the possibilities, and he hoped that whatever she had in store for him, it was at least a yes.

At fifteen till eleven, he snuck out of the common room, thankful that most everyone was asleep. Those that weren’t turned a blind eye; in Slytherin, they looked out for each other.

But unfortunately for Draco, the one girl sitting down in the common room with a book was Pansy Parkinson. She was dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt that was thin and ratty.

“Draco?” She asked, and her pale face gleamed ghoulishly in the dying firelight. “Where are you off to, this time of night?” Her voice was a whisper, and a smirk brought out her dimples. “Are you going to cause some trouble? Can I come?”

How odd, to think that Pansy Parkinson was flirting with him right now. They’d been off and on from the time they were fifteen, but it had been at least a year since he’d last sought her out. And she’d seemed to take it well, moving on to Blaise Zabini a few weeks later. He’d assumed that was the end of it. But obviously, he’d been wrong.

“Oh, Pansy, I was just going for a walk,” He lied, knowing as the words left his mouth that they sounded ridiculous. It was mid-December, not at all ideal weather for an evening stroll. He had no idea how to get rid of her, not yet, and he knew Hermione would be waiting.

“A walk? A bit cold, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you rather snuggle with a special someone by the fireplace?” Pansy drawled in return, and he could’ve sworn that she was laughing at him. If he didn’t know her better, he’d have thought she knew something. But that was impossible.

They’d both been nothing if not careful, and he knew it. But that teasing tone… He didn’t trust it one bit.

“Wouldn’t anyone?” He replied, smirking at her. “It is nearing Christmas and all. What a better time for camaraderie and closeness?” The answer, to her, would’ve sounded glib. He rolled his eyes for added effect, hating that this felt like a façade more than anything else.

“What are you doing up?” He asked, hoping that she didn’t see his rising flush in the darkness of the room.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Pansy said, shrugging, her face ghosting with a scowl. She worried at the corners of the pages of her book, and he had to resist the automatic urge to put his hands on the top of hers, to still her.

This was one of his best friends, and here he was, feeling as if he was speaking to a stranger. And he ached to leave, to go to Hermione and forget this ever happened. If he were at all superstitious, he would’ve taken this as a sign. A realization that he could not easily free himself from his life, no matter how he wanted to walk away from it. Bitterness bloomed in his mouth.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t sleep. But I have to go.” Draco said, and he felt his face close off to her. If she felt his retreat, all the better. As concerned as he was about his friend, he had to leave. “Cover for me with Professor Snape?” He hoped and prayed that she would agree and let him go.

And this time, it seemed, that luck was on his side, because Pansy nodded, her dark eyes troubled. “Good night, Draco.”

The words haunted him the entire walk to The Room of Requirement, and guilt settled in his stomach like a cannonball.  
**

Meanwhile, Hermione was in the Room of Requirement, pleased with the kitchen the room had conjured for her needs. It was modest but functional, and she already had the appetizer assembled, carrying the little glasses to the round table in the middle of the kitchen.

Just as she set the glasses down, filled with bright, acidic cocktail sauce and cleaned shrimp, Draco came into the room, and he was pale, down to his lips.

“I’m sorry I’m late, darling,” He said, smiling distractedly, walking over to her and kissing her cheek. It was as if he didn’t even notice the room, nor the food she’d put out.

“It’s all right. Are you okay?” She asked, looking up at him. He’d looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Draco said, and it seemed true, because his eyes swept the room. They’d both been in The Room of Requirement so many times, and he’d never see it this way before. It was a homey, warm kitchen with walls of bright yellow, a round wooden table already scarred with marks and set for two. He looked at her, questions in his eyes, and she burst, unable to contain herself any longer.

“I told my parents that I would be spending the holidays with Ron and his family,” She said, a smile spreading on her face that was just for him. “But I’m going home with you.”

**

It took a moment to sink in, but once it did, they met each other across the room, holding each other tightly. “Oh, Hermione, I’m so happy!” He murmured into her hair, and she smiled. She pulled away from him. “I wanted us to have our own Christmas dinner here in the castle before we left. I didn’t know if The Room would cooperate, but I guess I didn’t need to worry.”

In his joyful state, he soon forgot about Pansy, and lost himself in a homecooked meal, all prepared by his true love. He was so touched by the gesture that he felt like crying. How lucky had he gotten with her, really? She’d gone all out, and with every bite of food, he felt himself settle. Was it possible that a person could feel like home, rather than a place? That’s what she was, to him.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” He said, before cutting into the steak and lifting a bite to his mouth. It was warm, slightly spicy, and perfectly cooked. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

She flushed, but beamed widely at the compliment. “I wanted to celebrate.” She shrugged, but he grinned at her. “Thank you for all this, it’s incredible.” “You’re very welcome. Food means a lot in my family, and I wanted you to experience that.”

“I’m so happy you’ve agreed to come.” He said, taking every bite slowly, savoring every bit. The house elves, at home and at school, were phenomenal cooks. But every single crumb had been created by her, and he could taste the love in it.

“I’m not doing it for you, Draco,” Hermione said, gentle, her eyes never leaving his. “I’m doing this for myself, and for people like me.”  
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just worked his way through his steak.

How arrogant and naïve he’d been, placing all of the hopes of his lost on her shoulders.

“I can understand that,” He responded at last, and smiled at her. “You and I can start taking steps to save the world.” Draco returned to his food, and so, he didn’t see Hermione circle the table and throw her arms around his neck. He blinked, then chuckled to himself, kissing her temple sweetly.

“God, I’m so lucky to have you.” He murmured against her skin, and he could feel her shiver.  
He wanted to be with her, but he could tell that she was exhausted.

They finished dinner, and the kitchen transformed into a simple bedroom, and they lay down, snuggled in bed together.

“I’ve missed you,” He murmured, stroking her hair after she lay her head on his chest. Her arms tightened around him, and he sighed. “I’ve missed you too, love,” She whispered, and she could barely stifle a yawn.

“Have you not been sleeping well?” He asked, and she shook her head. “Just a little stressed.”

If she wasn’t so tired, he would’ve pleasured her, but right now he just wanted to hold her. Before he realized what was happening, they both fell asleep, snug in the blankets and in each other’s arms.

**


	7. Chapter Seven: The Journey to Malfoy Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco begin the journey to Malfoy Manor once break begins and all but the teachers have gone home. They talk a bit about meeting his family, but sexy times ensue! In the next chapter, Hermione will see Malfoy Manor for the first time and meet his parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, everyone! Sorry, this took so long; I've had a lot on my plate for the last month or so and haven't had a lot of free time. I promised sexy times in this chapter, and sexy times you shall have! I hope you all enjoy this chapter; things start getting real after this, so please stay tuned! Thank you for your patience and for reading my first fic. This story wouldn't exist without the enthusiasm of the fanfiction community. I love you all!

Chapter Seven: The Journey to Malfoy Manor

They decided to wait until the castle was mostly empty before they left. Draco had arranged for transportation, but wouldn’t tell Hermione anything beyond that. Her hands were sweating inside of her gloves, and she was glad that all but the teachers couldn’t see her.  
She’d made her decision, but something deep inside her wouldn’t quiet. She wasn’t afraid, exactly, but she wasn’t sure of herself either. She would have to learn to hide her expressions, to mask them in front of the others.

She and Draco waited on the grounds with their bags, shivering in their coats. Just after sundown, a coach arrived, sleek black with glittery gold font; it was extra as fuck. It was pulled by invisible Thestrals. Hermione looked at Draco, and was surprised to find him blushing to the tips of the ears.

“It’s too cold to ride broomsticks to Wiltshire. I suppose we could’ve called The Knight Bus?” He said, shaking his head. “I definitely could’ve been a lot less ridiculous about this.”

Hermione laughed, and he hopped in first, holding out his hand to help her into the carriage. She stepped up, grasping his hand, and they sat across from each other, on the plush cushions.

“Draco, you told them that I was accompanying you home, right?” She asked, looking at him intently.

“Of course, I did, Jean,” Draco said, flashing her a smile. “And they weren’t happy about it. But I don’t care.” The thestrals took to the sky, and Hermione smiled to herself, laughing softly.

“What’s so funny?” Draco asked, raising a pale brow.

“This reminds me of flying to France for the summer. I was so frightened.” She admitted.

His face softened, and she continued, “I’m not good on a broomstick like you, Ron, and Harry.” She flushed, and looked away. He grasped her hand gently, comforting her with his touch.

“I’m not sure what to expect,” She added. She had thought about it for days, and still she wasn’t totally calm.

“It’ll be all right,” Draco said, giving her a smile. “We’re both in this together.”

He stood up and came over to her side, pulling her close. “What if we have some fun before we arrive? That should help, right?”

“What kind of help are we talking?” She didn’t know how long it would take to get to the Malfoys’ house, but she was tempted.

In reply, Draco unbuttoned her coat, rubbing her shoulders tenderly. She smiled up at him, reaching up and touching his face. He leaned down and kissed her, gently pressing her down on the seat. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“God, you’re beautiful,” He whispered, touching his forehead to hers, and she smiled up at him. “Do you want to keep going?” He asked, pulling back. She wanted to wrap herself around him, lose herself in him, and she nodded. “Yes.”

He sat up and stripped his coat, and it fell in a heap on the floor. “I love you,” He said softly, his eyes alight. “And I’ve been wanting you for so long.”

She looked up at him, and she smiled. “I love you, too.”

He didn’t need any further incentive to strip down to his boxers. Thankfully, it was warm inside the carriage, and Hermione was always grateful for an excuse to stare at Draco’s sculpted physique.

“What shall we do?” He asked, whispering in her ear and nibbling on it. “Shall I kiss every inch of you until you’re begging me to—”

“Stop talking,” Hermione hissed, pulling him to her and kissing him passionately. They hadn’t slept together since the night in The Restricted Section, and she craved him desperately.

He ground his hips against her, and she moaned, wrapping her hand around him. He stilled for a moment, breathing heavily. When she held him like that, he would’ve given her anything she asked for.

He was completely under her control, and happily so.

“You are incredible, Hermione,” He murmured, and she stroked him, cutting him off. He grew hard under her touch, and his eyes were mere slits. She loved that look on his face, where he looked as though he would devour her. She stroked him gently, slowly, then more quickly.

God, if she could do things like this to him forever, he’d go to death gladly.

She let him go and shucked her skirt, wiggling her way out of it.

He helped her with her shirt, relieving her of her bra. His hands were shaking, and she smirked up at him, daring him to pleasure her.

He slipped a hand between her legs and touched her, and she gasped, her eyes going wide.

“Oh, Draco…”

He loved it when she said his name like that. His heart twisted at the sound.

“I’ve missed you so much.” Her voice was ragged, and he smiled down at her. He kissed her lips, her neck, down her body until his mouth reached her sex.

And then, he stilled, smirking up from between her legs. “Tell me you want it, Hermione,” He purred, and she huffed in good-natured frustration.

“Draco—”

“You’re wasting time. I’m not sure how close we are to the Manor.” His smile was wicked, and she groaned.

“Please, Draco. Please fuck me.”

With a victorious chuckle, his head dipped, and he licked her until she squirmed under him, panting. Her sounds were the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

“Draco,” She pleaded, and he stopped, pulling away.

“Enough foreplay. Come here.”

He pulled off his boxers, and laid down on top of her. “Do you want me inside you?” He whispered in her ear, and she shuddered, eyelids fluttering. “Yes, now,” She ordered, and he obliged, filling her up quickly. Hermione gasped, grinding against him, and he grunted, putting his hands on her ass to hold her closer.

God, he’d missed this. But he didn’t want to release, not yet; he wanted her to be pleasured first.

They moved against each other, every move sparking more friction. They fucked passionately, one of Hermione’s tits in Draco’s mouth.

Hermione melted, her body becoming languid and pliable under his. She cried into his neck, tears dripping down onto his skin. Her whole body was shaking, and he held her as she bit into his shoulder and cried out, wordlessly. He pulled out of her and came on the floor of the carriage. He never liked coming on her; it felt disrespectful. She was breathing hard in his ear, and struggling to stay awake.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione whispered, laughing weakly. “I got distracted.”

“Don’t worry; there will be more time for that later,” Draco reassured her. She fell asleep wrapped around him, sweat drying on her skin and her hair even more frizzy than normal.

**

They slept for a while, and Draco was the first to wake up. He gently disentangled himself from Hermione and put his shirt on, cleaning up the mess with a whispered spell.   
He sat on the opposite seat, letting Hermione wake up a little later. She dressed and smiled at him sleepily. “Thank you for earlier.” “You’re welcome, love. I think that we’re almost there.”

**


	8. Chapter Eight: Holiday Greetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco arrive at Malfoy Manor in the early hours of the morning. Hermione and Draco's parents are introduced, and she finds someone within the Manor that she cares about. She receives an unexpected surprise along with her holiday greetings and is left puzzling over what will come next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! I'm back! I've been crazy busy and stressed, and I apologize for the wait. I hope you like this chapter! I have more surprises in store, so I hope that you'll stay tuned for what's coming next! Thank you all so much for making this all possible for me, I have so much love for this community. As always, comments are welcomed and encouraged! I love you all!

Chapter Eight: Holiday Greetings

It was creeping toward the early hours and the following day by the time the carriage gently floated down to the front lawn of Malfoy Manor.

 

Hermione had known this moment was coming, and she was glad that she and Draco had released some stress. As a result, she was loose. Ready. She had no clue to expect, but she steeled herself nonetheless.

She was sitting across from Draco, and she’d cleaned herself up. It would not do to appear in front of the Malfoys looking anything less than immaculate. She had to have her guard up.

Pink was touching fingers in the pale gray sky when they came out of the carriage and onto the lawn. As expected, Draco’s parents were waiting, clothed in fur. Lucius’s light gray eyes were cold and chilly, and Hermione stared up at him head-on, holding her breath. His coat, to her horror, was mink, and she curled her lip. How careless and wasteful of him, to take the life of an animal to warm his own body.

His wife stood beside him, coming up to her husband’s shoulders. She was wrapped in fox, in fine white fur, and it was all Hermione could do not to cry out for the coldness of it all. She had a pale, pointed face like her son, and her light, snowy tresses were pulled up in a bun at the nape of her neck. Hermione’s entire body burned under their scrutiny, but she refused to back down.

She’d had weeks to prepare for this, and she’d be damned if she gave Draco’s parents even an inch.

**  
“Hello Mother, Father,” Draco said stiffly, stepping in close to shake his father’s hand and accept a kiss on the cheek from his mother. “This is Hermione Granger.” He didn’t know how to define his relationship with her, and anyway, he wasn’t ready for that conversation.

He gestured toward Hermione, and she stepped forward, bowing her head for a moment. It killed her to have to show deference to these people, who hated her, but it had to be done.

“Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Merry Christmas.” In Hermione’s head, she could hear her mother praising her manners, and had to bite back a reluctant smile.

“Come inside, out of the cold,” Narcissa said, leading the way into the manor.

The foyer was spacious and sparkling clean, Hermione noticed as they entered the house single-file. They came to a parlor, already warm from huge, tended fires. Despite the opulence, Hermione felt a chill that had nothing to do with the season. It felt more like a waiting room than an actual home.

Despite the late hour, the table at the side of the room was laden with plates of food, and Hermione blinked when she felt a slight tug on her elbow. Peering down, a tiny little house elf that barely came up to her waist held out her hands for Hermione’s coat. Wordless, eyes down, and her heart throbbed immediately. The house elf was clearly female, and was dressed in a patchy pillow. Hermione shrugged off her coat and handed it to the elf, feeling a fresh hatred for Draco’s parents.

What kind of people enslaved house elves to do menial household work? They had magic at their disposal, for Christ’s sake. It was cruel and unnecessary, and she felt Draco’s eyes on her face, worried.

Lucius broke the silence, attempting a stiff smile her way. “My wife and I are arranging a ball in your honor,” He said, and Draco blinked, though the rest of his face remained impassive. “A grand celebration to welcome our son’s friend to our home.” Narcissa nodded, smiling, sitting down.

The rest of them followed, and soon the house elves were bobbing in their orbit again, serving sweet, hot tea and small plates of fruit salad and finger sandwiches.

“I think what we first need to do is sleep,” Draco said after eating, wiping his mouth. “It’s been a long journey.” Hermione nodded, the food turning to ash in her mouth.

“Of course. We can exchange more pleasantries at breakfast.” Narcissa murmured, her eyes never leaving Hermione’s face. She stood up, and ordered the house elves to show their guest to her room. Only her exhaustion prevented her from snarling at Draco’s mother. How dare they? She could hear mother and son exchanging quiet, whispered words, so unclear she didn’t know what to make of them.

She followed the house elf up a grand flight of stairs, carpeted richly in black, to a room at the very end of the hall. She opened the door and let Hermione go in first, then stood behind her, waiting for more orders, or to be dismissed. The room was beautiful; it reminded her of the inside of a jewelry box. Colorful, plush, and more than a little ostentatious.

“Do you require anything else, Miss?” The elf squeaked, her bright blue eyes on the floor. “Or may I go?”

“May I ask you your name?” She asked, her voice in a low whisper. The elf blinked and frowned, then shook her head, her large, floppy ears flapping.

“It isn’t important, miss. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going now!”

Before she could protest, the house elf disappeared in a puff of bright, sparkling smoke.

Hermione turned on the light and looked around the room, changing into a set of pajamas, red and gold striped for Gryffindor House. It felt a lot like the rest of the house, in that it was more for appearance than real use. So much had happened just within the last night that Hermione had no idea how to process. The main feeling was fatigue, and longing.   
She wished that Draco were here with her in this unfamiliar room. Why were the Malfoys holding a party for her? She hadn’t expected to be so exposed so soon. She had to admit to herself that she was scared.

But she couldn’t regret it, either. And with that last comforting thought, she climbed into bed and promptly fell asleep.

**


	9. A Surprise in the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco spend their first day in Malfoy Manor together, and surprises abound! There will be sexy times in this chapter, and I hope you all love it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all! I missed you guys! Things have been crazy busy and stressful and I recently got back from a weekend out of town. Sorry that the updates have been few and far between. Some days it's all I can do just to get out of bed, let alone write anything. But I hope you love A Surprise in the Library! Draco and Hermione spend their first day in Malfoy Manor together, a big event is on the horizon, and sexy times are at the end! I really had fun writing this chapter, and I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you all for the enthusiasm and encouragement, I wouldn't be so dedicated if I didn't have any support. I love you all! Enjoy!

Chapter Nine: A Surprise in the Library

Hermione was awoken by the cold winter sun, uncertain of where she was at first. Then she remembered. The carriage ride, conversation and the intimacy that had followed. Her skin tingled, and she felt the ghost of Draco’s kisses on her skin.

There was a pitcher of water on the nightstand, and she washed her face. She quickly changed into a pair of black trousers and a soft green sweater. She had to steel herself. She and Draco loved each other, but she had to prepare for every possibility. She had to be on guard.

She walked out of the room, determined to find her way to the kitchen. She could smell bacon and butter, and felt her limbs loosening. It was an intense comfort, and reminded her of home. But she was soon waylaid by the house elf who had taken her coat last night. Her eyes were bright blue, and she didn’t come up to Hermione’s waist.

“Good morning, miss,” She squeaked. “Please allow me to escort you to the dining room.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, smiling at her.

“Did Miss sleep well?” The elf asked, and Hermione nodded.

She was led down the hall and the stairs, into the brightly lit dining room.

Draco and his parents were already there, though she noticed that he hadn’t yet eaten. He’d waited for her, and when he smiled, she couldn’t help but return it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his parents exchange a look.

A flame sprung to life inside of her chest, and she felt like roaring her defiance. Despite all of their efforts, he wasn’t totally bad. His soul didn’t belong to Voldemort, and could yet be saved. Let them worry.

“Please, sit, Miss Granger,” Lucius said, indicating the empty chair across from them and Draco, and Hermione did it, though she hated the sound of his voice, hated how every word out of his mouth was a veiled threat, daggers wrapped in silk. She would not let them see her quail before them. They were dangerous, but then, so was she.

“I hope you slept well,” Narcissa murmured quietly, over her teacup.

“Yes, thank you,” Hermione said, reaching for eggs, bacon, and buttered toast.

So wasteful, a voice inside her mind whispered, dripping with scorn. Excessive was too pale a word to describe the Malfoys’ lifestyle.

“My wife and I were discussing the party we’d like to hold later this week, to welcome you to our home. A masquerade and a grand feast. It was Draco’s idea, of course,” Lucius said, and Draco grinned at her, eyebrows raised. His expression thrilled her; like they were playing the most hilarious joke on his parents.

“I would love to celebrate with a party,” Hermione said, her eyes going back and forth between the two elder Malfoys.

“Very well then. We will go to a dressmaker and get you fitted for a gown and a mask.” Narcissa said, smiling at Hermione. Hermione nodded, saving herself from having to answer by tucking into her breakfast. Privately, the thought of being alone with Draco’s mother scared her. But she couldn’t exactly refuse. Her parents would be appalled at even thinking about it.

Hermione could not make herself be unkind, not when the other options would lead to chaos. There would be time for that later. Draco’s eyes on her face made her smile at him, even as her unease increased.

She’d never felt so entirely out of her element, not even in the halls of Hogwarts.

She finished eating, all too aware of their eyes on her every move.

“I was thinking perhaps that I could give you a tour of the manor,” Draco said, smiling at her. “You need to know how to get around before the main event later this week.”

“I would like that. Thank you, Draco.”

They said their goodbyes to Lucius and Narcissa, and began their tour.  
**  
Hermione had no idea that the manor could be this big, but she was happy that she had Draco all to herself.

“You did well,” Draco murmured as they explored the massive first floor. “I’m so proud of you.” She beamed at him, her heart warming. “Wait until you see the library. It’s almost as big as the one at Hogwarts.”

“No way!” She gasped, and he winked at her. Her heart sped up, and before she realized what was happening, he grabbed her hand and they were running down the hallway, to the door furthest to the right. He opened the door and pulled her inside, locking the door behind them.  
**

Draco smirked at Hermione, pinning her gently against the door. “You look gorgeous today,” He whispered against her neck, and he laughed quietly when she shuddered. He leaned in to kiss her, stopping when he was a few inches away. Her eyes widened, turning black.

He hoped that she’d forgotten about the books.

“I wish you’d slept in my bed last night,” He whispered, eyes on those luscious lips. “I dreamed of you, but it wasn’t enough.”

She bit her lip, and he longed to devour her, right here in his parents’ library.

“Are you wet, Hermione?” He whispered, and she pushed him away from her, just enough so she could get to his pants. He helped her with it. When he was liberated from his boxers, she was kneeling in front of him, taking him in her mouth.

He gasped softly, taken by surprise and nearly melting. “Oh God, Jean. You’re so sexy.” She giggled softly and moved her head, up and down. She sucked him happily. Every so often, she’d pull away and stroke him until he was close.

Draco groaned, begging her to finish him, and she smirked, licking her lips.

“I love it when you beg for me, Draco,” She purred. He nearly came right then and there. When she was bossy and dominant like this, it drove him wild.

“Please, Jean, please,” He whispered, and she laughed. She ceased her teasing and sucked him, and he loved watching her head bob up and down.

At long last, he came, and she allowed him to come in her mouth. She waved her wand with a whispered word, and it was gone.

**


	10. Chapter Ten: The Dressmakers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes with Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy to begin preparations for the party later in the week and finds an unexpected ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! I'm so, so, so sorry for the wait. Things in my life, both personally and professionally, have gotten even crazier and I've been insanely busy; I haven't had time to do much of anything, much less write a brand-new chapter! But I promise I didn't forget about you all, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your patience. No sexy times this chapter, but that will come later! In chapter ten, The Dressmakers, Hermione goes with Mrs. Malfoy to a dressmaker near their home and gains an unexpected ally. I hope you all love this chapter, and I cannot wait to continue this story, because I'm having so much fun with it. Without the enthusiasm of this community, this fic would still be sitting on my hard drive, hidden from the world. I love you all, and thanks for sticking with me, Draco, and Hermione! Thank you so much again! Comments and kudos are encouraged and greatly appreciated!

Chapter Ten: The Dressmakers

Later that day, after a light lunch of salads and cake, Narcissa insisted that she and Hermione brave the cold to begin preparations on Hermione’s gown. Hermione had to bite her tongue every single time that Draco’s mother barked orders at the small army of house elves that drifted around the manor. Perhaps there would be an opportunity to tell Draco’s parents about themselves later. Her whole life had been about picking her battles; it would not do to show her cards at this point.

Draco left her with a chaste kiss on the cheek, whispering in her ear to tread lightly; as usual, he’d read her mind in an instant. For a single moment, she was terrified, and she almost reached for his sleeve to clasp his wrist. But she stopped herself at the last second. She refused to quake in front of these cruel, terrible people.

“Come, dear.” Narcissa murmured, looking down at Hermione. Her lips were pursed as though she smelled something foul, and her eyes glittered with barely veiled menace. The house elf appeared in a puff of smoke, and despite her small stature, she helped Hermione into her coat. “Thank you,” Hermione whispered, and was rewarded with a tiny, nearly imperceptible smile.

That rare sight gave Hermione the courage she needed to step out into the cold winter day with Mrs. Malfoy. Her heart ablaze with fortitude, she followed the older woman into the same carriage Draco had summoned to pick them up from Hogwarts.

The thestrals took to the air, and only after they were aloft did Narcissa begin to speak. Her voice was low and faintly venomous, silky and cultured all at once.  
“It has been quite some time since the noble clan of Malfoy has thrown a fete.” She began, and the corners of her mouth turned upwards, a private joke between she and Hermione. “But never have we had such a celebration to honor a dirty, filthy Mudblood such as yourself.” Before Hermione could so much as react, she moved on, as if trying to quickly bury the insult.

“This party will be a costume ball, a masquerade like the days of old.” Hermione could not help but notice how much Narcissa and her husband were mired in old, archaic traditions, a mixture of Muggle and wizard customs that were long since outdated. But she said nothing; she sensed that Narcissa was still monologuing.

Hermione could see just where Draco’s flare for dramatics had come from.

“We will be going to a private dressmaker and begin the preparations for your costume. You may, of course, choose what you wish to be. Mr. Malfoy and I have already had our clothes made. Your addition was last minute, and the party will be later in the week.”

Hermione was torn between thanking the woman for her generosity, however feigned it was, and firing back at her for all she was worth. How she and her husband were relics of a dying time, lost to the past, and how they’d manipulated their son into fighting for a cause that he’d never fully supported or even understood. But she’d just got here. She simply couldn’t afford to jeopardize her already delicate position.

She was saved from responded by the carriage landing lightly. Narcissa stood up and opened the door, stepping down and not so much as disturbing the freshly fallen snow on the cobblestone walk. She waited for Hermione, clicking her cane impatiently.

Together, they both walked down the street, collars turned up against the cold. Narcissa led the way, always walking two or three steps ahead of the younger woman.

The Malfoys just couldn’t help showing their dominance and ambition; they all made worthy candidates of Salazar Slytherin’s House.

Their breath made small puffs of white, warm air, and the only other sound was their footsteps crunching in the snow. Despite the proximity to the holidays, the lane was quiet, and the few people that were out walked by at a quick clip, heads lowered and voices in whispers.

At last, Narcissa stopped in front of a storefront, adorned with glittering gold letters: Pembroke and Lilac Dressmakers. Several pale, curvy mannequins stood proud in the window, clothed in beautiful confections. The feminine part of Hermione rejoiced; she liked fashion, though she did not often utilize it. The only exception she’d made was for The Yule Ball in fourth year, and what a sweet surprise it had been, seeing the whole castle gape at her sudden, stunning transformation.

Warmth bloomed in her stomach, and she followed Narcissa into the hushed warmth of the shop. A bell rang delicately at the top of the glass door, and a pair appeared at the counter, near the back of the shop and almost hidden among all the yards of satin, silk, lace and tulle.

“Ah, Mrs. Malfoy,” The man said, smiling delicately. “We’ve been expecting you.”

The man reminded her of Ollivander, in a way: unnerving, ethereal, and more than a little mysterious. He wore a pair of twinkling silver glasses perched on the tip of his nose, and his eyes were magnified so that his eyes were almost like those of an insect. His periwinkle suit was pressed and pleated immaculately; Hermione noted begrudgingly.

“You need dresses for your upcoming party, yes?”

“I require one dress, Pembroke. A single dress. Surely you received my owl?”

“Of course, madam.”

A woman stepped out from beside her husband, and she was so tiny that she barely reached Hermione’s elbow. She, too, was dressed in a suit, but hers was mint green and had a sunflower pinned to her lapel. Her long, gray hair was pulled back in a severe bun.

“Allow me to take your measurements back here, child,” She said, holding Hermione’s arm in a surprisingly strong grip and steering her back to the dressing room.

“Have you given any thought to your costume?” The woman asked, sitting her down on a plush silk stool.

“I would like to be an animal of some sort,” Hermione replied, the answer leaving her mouth before she could really think it through.

Mrs. Lilac nodded in reply, expressive lips pursed in thought. Her eyes never left Hermione’s face.

“Perhaps a fox? Or a raven?” She suggested, and Hermione was glad that she was being offered a choice.

“A raven would be lovely,” She said, smiling up at Mrs. Lilac. “But I’d like it to be white. Not black. For—”

Before Hermione could answer, the older woman’s face broke out in a bright, secretive smile. “Such as Odin’s ravens, yes?”

Hermione nodded, a smile taking up her whole face. This woman had caught on to her idea without her saying more than two sentences. A quiet voice inside of her whispered that with this mysterious dressmaker on her side, she’d be just fine, indeed.

**


	11. Chapter Eleven: A Line in the Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Hermione and Narcissa prepare for the ball at the dressmakers', Draco and Lucius have their first honest conversation since Draco and Hermione have come to Malfoy Manor, and his father demands that he decide where his loyalties lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! I'm so sorry for the wait; between my work, personal life, and just overall craziness recently, I haven't had very much free time. But I promise you all I haven't forgotten about you! I'm going to be trying to update at least twice a month, depending on my schedule. No sexy times in this chapter, but this one focuses on Draco and his father, and the two talk about his current standing in the family, being with Hermione, and Draco's loyalties to Voldemort. I hope you all love it because I worked very hard on it, and there will be lots of fun surprises as the story goes on! I love you all, and I hope you enjoy it! As always, kudos and comments are always welcome. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Eleven: A Line in the Sand

When Hermione and his mother departed for the dressmaker’s, Lucius insisted on talking to Draco in the library over tea. Privately, Draco didn’t think that there was enough hot, sweet tea in all of Britain to satisfy his father and the lectures he insisted on. The stings were only lessened by the sweet memory of Hermione in this room, crying out for him in a secret place only they knew. Rebukes disguised as guidance, subtle insults and jabs at his character. He was used to it by now, so when they were seated in chairs, he was waiting for it.

“Have you forgotten every single thing your mother and I have taught you?” His father said, quiet and glacial. He raised his teacup to his lips, his eyes never leaving Draco’s.

“How dare you bring a filthy Mudblood into our home. Have you been mucking about with her?” His father sat closer with sudden violence, setting his teacup down into its saucer, sending dark, hot liquid onto the pristine tablecloth.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Draco said, reflexively. “I’m almost eighteen, old enough to make my own decisions now.” And I choose her. I choose the right way, and you can’t stop me.

His father laughed, a high, hysterical sound.

“You can’t honestly believe that, can you? You’re the proud son of the Malfoy clan and you will do your duty, the lot of it! You can’t escape your fate, boy. It was written in stone before you were even born.”

The words hit Draco’s face like venom, and he hissed through his teeth as though dealt a physical blow.

“You’re wrong,” Draco said, and soon had the odd sensation of being outside of his own body, watching himself defy his father. “Nothing has been decided by me. My life is my own.” These were things he’d never said in his own mind, let alone out loud. But knowing that Hermione was out there with his mother, getting fitted for a gown, gave him courage. He would not be cowed in his own home, by this sniveling excuse of a man.

“You don’t own me. I’m my own man, and I think Voldemort is wrong!”

His father moved so quickly that Draco wasn’t prepared for it; fingers twisted in his shirt front, pulling him so that they were nose to nose.

“You had better be thankful that no one but I heard such blasphemy. The Dark Lord has killed for less.” His eyes glinted, manically, and Draco growled. He wasn’t a little boy anymore; he wasn’t as tall as his father, but he more than made up for it in muscle.

“It must really suck for you, having to lick the bootstraps of someone so pathetic!” Draco snarled through gritted teeth. “I don’t care what ‘The Dark Lord’ wants, Father. I care about her, and myself. We don’t have to do this.”

Lucius stared at his son then, and his already pale countenance went to the blue-grey of spoiled milk, his eyes slits.

“She’s gotten into your head, hasn’t she, son? Been radicalizing you for the blood traitors and Dumbledore… After the holidays and you return to school, this… Dalliance with Miss Granger will be set behind us all, where it belongs. This will not continue.”

His father let go of him, barking orders at one of the house-elves to clean up the leavings of their tea before departing.

Draco stood in the library for a long while after that, still smarting from Lucius’s manhandling and cruel words. He felt as though he hadn’t for a long time, like a child again, always desperate to please and coming up short.

It would appear that he and Hermione would have quite a bit to talk about, upon her return.

**


	12. Chapter Twelve: The Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this, chapter Twelve, The Calm Before the Storm, Hermione and Draco touch base after Hermione returns from the dress shop, talking about the party about to take place and their relationship, as well as Draco's parents' reception of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! I'm back, and I've missed you! I said I was going to update twice a month, and I intend to make good on the promise! Things in my life, in all aspects, has gotten crazy busy lately, but I'm not mad about it. I've been trying to use my free time wisely, and if I'm too tired to write, I just don't. But with that being said, chapter twelve is now up! No sexy times in this chapter, but it will come up for sure next chapter, as that's when the masquerade finally starts! Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter because I worked really hard on it. Comments and kudos are always welcome. I love you all!

Chapter Twelve: The Calm Before the Storm

Hermione and Narcissa returned in the early evening, with promises of a beautiful dress waiting for them upon their return. They’d been cordial, but it had been a day spent mostly in silence. She was grateful for it, even with her churning thoughts and roiling unease. The house was unnervingly quiet, and all Hermione wanted was to find Draco and talk to him. Lucius wasn’t anywhere to be found, either.

Her excitement over the ball and having a dress tailored specifically for her died down in the wake of returning to the Malfoys’ airy, chilled home, one that was haunted by the people who resided in it. Her throat tightened, and she began to walk to her room, speeding up when she realized that Draco’s mother didn’t call after her. She found the door to her room and pushed it open, her heart racing inside of her ribcage.

Draco came down the hall shortly after, his steps at a quick clip. He stopped in front of her door and knocked, quietly but in quick succession. “Come in,” She said softly, and he quickly came into the room, closing the door behind him.

“I’ve got so much to tell you,” Draco said, his cheeks high with color, pupils dilated. He couldn’t seem to stay still, and his fingers twitched, as though he were about to reach for his wand.

“So, tell me,” Hermione replied, instantly tense, watching him.

In halted, stuttering speech, Draco recounted the conversation in the library with his father, by turns angry and sickened. He felt like a little boy again, cowering in the corner when Lucius raised his voice.

Hermione listened until he was finished, but much to his surprise, she was grinning. She laughed, and the sound made his heart flutter.

“I’m not afraid of them, Draco,” She told him, her eyes flashing with defiance. “Them or their pathetic little friends. They can’t separate us, not unless we let them. Do you want to leave me?”

Before she had even finished the sentence, Draco was shaking his head.

“Do you think that I would’ve asked you to come here, if I wanted that?”

“No, of course not,” She said, and smiled up at him.

“What happened at the dressmakers? Where did you go?”

“Someplace called Lilac and Pembroke,” Hermione said, going to sit on the bed and leaving room for him to join her. He followed, holding her hand, eyes thoughtful.

“Mum and Dad have been going to them for years. I don’t know if they’re purebloods, but they’re excellent tailors. I assume you decided what you wanted to be for the costume party?” He asked her, laying his head in her lap. She stroked his fine, fair locks with her free hand.

“I’m going to be a white raven,” She answered, smiling down at him. “For the old Norse myths of Odin. What did you decide to be?”

Draco grinned up at her, sly and sneaky and all hers. “I decided to be a gray wolf. I promise, I won’t eat you up.”

“What if I want you to?” She lobbed back, and he laughed, the sound fading when she leaned down and kissed him, tenderly.

“I can’t wait for the party. I can’t wait to see Mum and Dad’s jumped up old friends with you on my arm. They’ll all probably die of shock,” Draco said, putting his forehead to Hermione’s.

They kissed for a long time, and eventually they lay in bed together, limbs tangled.

“Don’t go,” Draco murmured, laying with his head on her chest. In response, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, holding him tightly.

“I won’t. I won’t go if you don’t want me to.” Hermione whispered back, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms, dreams of the masquerade party still fresh in their minds.

**


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Masquerade, Paper Faces on Parade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Thirteen, Masquerade, Paper Faces on Parade is now live! In this chapter, the party that they've been preparing for since the day Hermione arrived has finally begun. Hermione goes as a raven and Draco a wolf, and when the party starts, Hermione gets diverted by a stranger who seems to know more than they're telling...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! I'm finally back, and I've missed you all! I said I was going to update at least twice a month and I'm trying to turn it into a habit. It's chapter thirteen, the one you've been waiting for! The party being planned since Hermione's arrival finally has begun. With the festivities getting kicked off by an elegant dance, Hermione searches for Draco, only to be intercepted by a mysterious stranger who seems to know more than their telling. The fun has just started, and I've been so excited for this! I hope you all love it because I worked really hard on it! As always, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and welcomed! Enjoy, I love you all!

Chapter Thirteen: Masquerade, Paper Faces on Parade

Hermione and Draco awoke the day of the party when the sun rose, and they languished in bed together; Draco was feeling emboldened after talking to Hermione.  
And his parents would never dare to enter into her room; they’d send one of the house elves. But he found that today, the day of the party, he wasn’t frightened anymore. He’d spent his whole life feeling so small in this house, so insignificant. How ironic was it, that having Hermione, of all people, that he finally felt safe?  
He trusted her like no one else, and tonight, he would prove that, masked and protected by her side. He would wear the face of an animal, hidden even among his peers, and only his parents and Hermione would know him.

The people flocking to the manor tonight had been his family, peers, everyone he’d spent his life around, and he was facing them changed, whole. Surer of himself. The thought of donning the disguise that everyone knew exhausted him. Not for the first time, he felt like the walls of the house were closing in on him, a prison he would never escape from.

But he’d taken the first step, into bringing Hermione with him. Their alliance had never felt stronger to him, despite his jitters.

Hermione lay with her head on his chest, her fingers drawing idle shapes on his skin.

“Are you nervous, Draco?” She asked, her voice even. “I’d understand if you are.”

He couldn’t lie to her; he stroked her hair tenderly, savoring her warmth. “Yes, I am. But with you here, it’s bearable.” He chuckled. “I never dreamed I’d be in this position.”

Hermione squeezed him gently, smiling. “It’s too late to turn back now. We have to see this through, and we might as well raise some hell doing it, right?”

Their laughter lingered in the air long after it stopped, and they smiled at each other. Fortified, they got up to greet the day, searching for breakfast long before Draco’s parents arose.

**

After a shared breakfast in the library, they began to prepare for the ball, and the house buzzed around them, full of hushed activity. Hermione could hear the elder Malfoys’ cold voices, issuing orders and casting spells left and right. If there was something magic was truly useful for, it was for celebrations. As much as she despised them, she had to admit to herself that she was curious how this was going to turn out.

The gown was delivered, and it was Hermione who intercepted it at the door; she would not allow the house elves to carry the garment bag to her room for her, insisting that she carry it alone. Through the clear plastic, she glimpsed the gown, and it was such a beautiful creation, Hermione could’ve wept.  
The Lilac and Pembroke dressmakers had outdone themselves, she thought as she carried it into her room, laying it out onto the still unmade bed. It was so exquisite; she was reluctant to take it out of the bag.

The only thing that made her really look at it was imagining Draco’s face when he saw her in it. She wanted to impress him, wanted to stand out among people his parents considered important. She wanted his eyes on her, the whole night.

She unzipped the garment bag and used a whispered spell to make it hover before her. Harry wasn’t the only one who was skilled at magic, and even he hadn’t gotten the hang of unspoken spells.

Sometimes, it was almost painful, being part of The Golden Trio.

The full silk skirt, overlaid with white tulle and lush, white peacock feathers, billowed out in a lovely bell shape; it was like something from an old historical Muggle film. The bodice was also dotted with feathers, and though they were also white, they glimmered subtly when the light hit them. The result was dazzling, and she smiled to herself, pleased.

This had exceeded even her wildest dreams. It was utter perfection.

This raven would soar above the flock, while her wolf would prowl the ground, on guard against their enemies.

**

Draco longed to see Hermione, but he forced himself to stay in his room, focusing on getting ready. The party would begin just after sunset, and he was in no mood to speak to either of his parents. Unfortunately, he was in the middle of putting on his clothes, and just as he went to adjust his tie, a loud knock sounded on his door. Smoothing his hair back, he called, “Come in,” staring at his reflection in the mirror.

His father ducked inside, dressed in the silver scales of a basilisk, and Draco wondered if his father was spiteful and petty enough to deliberately take a jab at Hermione, as well as the Weasley family. It was all Draco could do, not to snarl at his father like the wolf whose form he would take during the party.

“I trust you are ready for the festivities to begin?” Lucius murmured, his gray eyes cold and stony. “Since you’ve insisted on bringing the Granger girl as your dance partner, I’m afraid you must tell all of the eligible, pureblood young ladies that you will be unavailable.”

Some things never changed; from the time he’d hit puberty, they’d tried to auction him off to several girls, like he was nothing more than a piece of meat, or a bartering chip. In fact, that had been how he and Pansy had become a couple, in a long-forgotten age that Draco didn’t like to think about.

“Yes, Father,” Draco said stiffly, clenching his jaw. He would love to do nothing more than to grab his father and smash his head into the mirror, shattering it. But he didn’t.

They’d waited on this night since the day Hermione had arrived, and he would not lose himself now.

“Make sure that you arrive in the foyer shortly before the party starts. And do be sure that your tart does as well.”

Before Draco could answer, his father left the room, slamming the door behind him as he did so.

**

Hermione slipped into her gown, fitting the accompanying bejeweled mask, smiling behind it. Now that the moment was finally here, she was ready. She was ready to face the Malfoys and all of their ilk, shielded by her gown and her mask and the promise of Draco’s love, regardless of how this turned out. She walked down the steps in heels, her hair tucked in a messy chignon. She could feel Draco’s heated eyes on her, and she flashed him a smile.

He was clothed in a sharp, gray suit that had fur around the cuffs and collar, and the smile that he returned gleamed sharp and bright in the candlelit, quiet foyer. His eyes glinted ghoulishly, but warmth bloomed inside her chest. Classical music played in the background, reminding Hermione of her mother’s favorite Muggle musicals, something about different colors and false faces playing in her mind.

Slowly, the room began to fill with people in fine clothes, none of whom Hermione could immediately identify.

Draco’s parents, dressed as a basilisk and a phoenix, respectively, led the room in its first dance, and Hermione edged through the people, her eyes searching for Draco. Skirts swished around her legs, and a wave of different scents barraged her: perfume, cologne, sweat and smoke and roasting meat.

It was almost too much. It would’ve been, had Hogwarts not prepared her for sheer volume of people.

Before she found Draco, though, she felt a hand on her arm, and she instinctively turned around, wondering if he’d found her first.  
“I’ve never seen you here before,” A deep, raspy voice murmured, so quiet Hermione almost couldn’t hear it over the music. “Is this your first time at Malfoy Manor?”

With a shock, Hermione found herself dancing with someone also in a dress, and she could dimly hear the buzz of the people talking around her. The stranger was dressed as a fox, in a lush sheath dress the color of a vixen. She wore a headband with pointed ears and even had a fluffy tail. Hermione wanted to laugh.

“Yes, how did you guess?” Hermione asked in kind, smiling as the other girl led her in a brisk waltz. She was shorter than Hermione and light on her feet.

She laughed, the sound loud and brash. Hermione found that she liked it.

She lifted her eyes away from the girl and tried to watch the elegant couples dancing around them for a sign of Draco.

Lucius and Narcissa had pulled back from the dance, hand in hand, watching over the guests like a king and queen surveying their subjects. To see the arrogance in their eyes sickened her.

One thing that The Wizarding World and The Muggle one had in common? Prejudice and the patriarchy reigned, even now, in these modern times. Some things never changed.

“You seem distracted. Are you looking for someone?” The girl purred, twirling Hermione back in close. “A raven should be on the watch for predators, don’t you think?”

Hermione surprised herself by laughing, and the stranger smiled again, strangely.

“Ravens have beaks and claws, as well as their wings. A raven looks for opportunity and threats on the horizon,” She said quietly, smiling in return.

She would not be underestimated, not when she’d made it all the way here.

She would fight until the end.

**


	14. A Meal Full of Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione finally find each other, where they attempt to have a conversation despite the loud music and the wagging tongues. Everyone is revealed when dinner is served, and they both receive some shocking surprises!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! I'm back and I've missed you all! Chapter 14, A Meal Full of Surprises, is now live! I told you all that I would update twice a month, and I've been trying to make good on my word! In this chapter, the party continues, with dinner and several surprises for both halves of our beloved couple! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter because I worked really hard on it! I love you all so much and, as always, thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are both welcome and appreciated! I love you all!

Chapter 14: A Meal Full of Surprises

Draco was swept up in a dance with another young woman, whose smile beckoned from behind a shimmering, rainbow-hued mask. Her long train of her violet gown was held delicately in one hand, and she smiled up at him.

“A wolf has caught me in its iron grip,” She whispered, and Draco found he couldn’t figure out who she was. “What will we do now?” She leaned in close, as if to press her cheek to his, but he spun her away from him. He didn’t want a stranger pawing at him within the span of the first dance. The only person he wanted to hold that close was Hermione, and try as he might, he couldn’t find her yet.

“I’m afraid I’m looking for someone else. Another kind of bird,” He quipped, making sure to smile. No woman was ever able to resist him showing off his pearly whites, and sure enough, the girl laughed, the sound delicate and flutelike. “Not that you don’t make a stunning peacock, miss.”

Flirting this way made him feel tired beyond words. It was an exhausting relic of someone else. Something he knew he didn’t want anymore. His eyes roamed behind his mask, and he finally spotted Hermione, twirling across the floor with someone who wore the costume of a fox. Still, even in motion, Draco could sense something familiar about the other girl. It was so vague and quick the thought escaped him before he could grasp it, and it was all he could do not to growl in frustration.

The song ended at last, the longest three and a half minutes of Draco’s life, and the girl whispered to him to come find her if he got lonely.

Hermione looked up, letting go of the girl in the orange gown. But the girl leaned forward and whispered in Hermione’s ear. Hermione blinked, then she smirked, shaking her head. Her brown eyes traveled the room until she found him, but he took the remaining steps toward her. They met in the middle of the room, and, as if the band was watching them and waiting for this very moment, struck up a tender, romantic waltz that he didn’t recognize.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Draco murmured, and the crowd hushed, parting to let them through. “I’ve missed you. It appears, though, that someone beat me to be your first dance partner.”

Hermione laughed, and the sound echoed throughout the room, despite all the other noise. “Yes, it appears that I made an unexpected friend,” She chuckled. Draco remembered the way the other girl whispered in her ear. “What did she say to you, Hermione?” He whispered.

But once he said her name, he could hear it repeated through the other dancers, on the floor and off. In shock, in disgust, in wonder. He laughed, reveling in it. What better way to spite his parents than this? To bring who they most detested into their own private halls? He thrilled at the sense of the forbidden, at the utter wrongness of it all.  
Hermione laughed, her smirk growing bigger by the moment.

“Oh, Draco, don’t tell me you’re jealous!” She teased in a whisper, her eyes soft and warm behind the mask, pushing his shoulder playfully.  
He was, a little bit, but he certainly wasn’t about to tell her that.

The song switched, this time a jumpy, bass-heavy dance number. The lights dimmed with flourishes from his parents’ wands, and he had to admit, as awful as they were, they sure knew how to know one hell of a party.

“Come here,” He whispered in her ear, and turned her around, pulling her so her back was against his front. He could’ve come from just that small amount of physical contact. He’d been dreaming about her all day, running his fingers through her gorgeous, silky waves and putting kisses on every inch of exposed skin.  
Hermione grinned, giggling, any self-consciousness disappearing when they met. She ground against him, and all of the older couples exited, making their way to the dinner table. He’d have to make sure they got a good tip. “I love you!” He said, shouting to be heard over the music, and she laughed, twirling in circles so her skirt fanned out magnificently. This woman was so beautiful, and she was here, in the house of his ancestors, partying with him, like they were just a couple of normal kids relaxing on the holiday.  
Here, they could ignore their destinies, if only for a few hours.

Draco held her close, even holding her hand long after the band had stopped playing. With no more music, the younger set joined their parents and grandparents at the table through several delicious courses. Hermione frowned darkly at the house elves serving the food, buttering the bread and pouring the wine, and Draco knew what she was thinking.

That as much fun as she was having, some things just couldn’t be ignored. And again, there came that whisper from inside of him, growing louder as time went on.

Wrong. Wrong. This is all wrong. But at least now I know better.

And he was actively fighting now, which was more than what he’d ever done before.

Narcissa and Lucius took off their masks and set them beside their plates, and everyone else followed, doing the same. Hermione hesitated for a short moment before her mask came off, and Draco followed suit.

When they looked across the table, the Greengrass sisters sat across from them, with Pansy grinning in the middle, taking off her headband. But Draco wondered if Pansy’s smile was naught but a ruse, in spite of himself. It was Daphne Greengrass who’d danced with Draco in the stunning purple peacock gown.

But Hermione was looking at Pansy, eyes narrowed as if she did not quite know what to make of the other young woman. Pansy giggled, wrinkling her nose and blowing a kiss in Hermione’s direction.

No one seated at the table missed any of this exchange, but the only sounds that could be heard was the scrape of utensils against china. Hermione was used to this by now, but as Draco ate, he looked between her, Pansy, and the sisters, his brow furrowed as if trying to figure out a particularly complex riddle.

**


	15. The Unexpected Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione can't stop thinking about what Pansy whispered in her ear, and it results in a secret meeting in the library while other partygoers create a distraction. Draco, Pansy, and Hermione have a discussion about Draco's future, and more than one heart will be broken at the end. What did Pansy say? What will their conversation be about? Read on to find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Happy holidays and New Year to all of my readers, however you celebrate. I'm so sorry for the wait, I know I said that I'd update twice a month, but the holidays came and I was just depleted. But I was inspired today! I've missed you all, and here it is, the 15th chapter! Draco and Hermione meet Pansy in the library for a chat, and by the end of it, more than one heart will be broken. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, because I worked really hard on it! I love you all so much and thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are welcome and appreciated! I love you all!

Chapter 15: The Unexpected Farewell

Hermione’s mind was ringing, even in the middle of all of the hubbub around her. She’d danced with Pansy Parkinson, of all people, whose sly smile mirrored the fox she’d pretended to be, and been given an unexpected invitation.

“Meet me in the library. Since you’re here, well, I figured it would be time to talk.” Pansy’s lips had brushed the outside of her ear, making her shiver. “Bring Draco, if you wish. Or don’t. I knew you were courageous, Granger, but I didn’t know you were this foolish.”

There was a hint of laughter, derisive and disbelieving, and then she’d let go, shooting Hermione a wink as she did so. Despite how much she longed to forget and dance with   
Draco, her curiosity would not quiet. Pansy had been nothing but an enemy for her, and she knew that Draco had been linked to her throughout school.

Pansy’s words echoed in her mind, a taunt: Bring Draco. Or don’t.

When the meal ended, couples began to spread out on the dance floor; Hermione didn’t dare approach Draco until his parents were occupied, with a couple that refused to keep their hands to themselves.

Draco frowned down at her, sensing the change in her demeanor as soon as he caught her eye.

“Is something wrong?” He asked her, and she shrugged.

“Pansy wants to meet us in the library. She said something about needing to talk.”

Draco’s brows knit, and he frowned, swearing under his breath.

“Pansy wants to talk? Now? About what?”

“She didn’t say. But… I don’t think we should ignore her.”

His lips twisted, and Hermione could tell that he was wrestling with himself.

“Oh, what the hell. Everything else has gone pear-shaped tonight. Let’s go.”

Draco grabbed her hand, and they took advantage of the interruption to disappear into the crowd, heading toward the library.

Neither of them saw a boy dressed like a bear, a sharp white grin gleaming out from behind his mask, leaning against the wall, watching their departure.

**  
They crept down the hall together, toward the library, taking no notice to the chaos around them: one boy was laughing manically, bubbles floating out of his mouth, all of   
different colors, a pair of girls were dancing with one another, passing a bottle back and forth, and still others were dancing. Everyone seemed to be absorbed in their own activities, and so the pair made it to the library uninterrupted.

The room was dark, save for the curtains open to let in the silvery moonlight.

Hand in hand, Hermione and Draco searched the room.

“Pansy? You got me. We’re here. You said we needed to… talk.” Hermione said hesitantly, wishing she sounded surer.

“Ah! And you’ve brought Draco, as I hoped!” Pansy replied. She was sitting in an armchair, in front of the fire, and she was grinning, her hands steepled under her chin.

“You’re more fun than I ever pegged you to be, Granger,” She said, and her eyes were gleaming with something like admiration. She then turned her head to look at Draco, eyebrows raising. “And you, clearly, have lost your mind. Bringing someone like her right into the lion’s den? Or the black magic den, if you’ll pardon the expression.”

Draco stared at his former girlfriend, stunned that she’d speak so freely in front of Hermione. But he sensed a change in her, a playful sort of mood that left him uneasy.

“What, you think I can’t handle myself? I’ve more than dealt with you, and Draco, and the rest of your ilk at school!” What was one more step, she thought but didn’t say.  
Pansy shocked Draco by laughing in reply.

“You certainly clean up nicely,” She purred, and Hermione flushed, as if uncomfortable with all the attention. “It’s something I’d never thought I’d see, after The Yule Ball.” She smirked at Draco. “Bet your parents threw an awful hissy when they brought her home, eh?”

Pansy stepped closer, her eyes going back and forth between them.

Neither Hermione or Draco knew what to make of this; there was something strange, even hungry, in Pansy’s gaze. In that moment, she looked more foxlike than ever.

“Does this mean you’ve gone all noble on us? Going to join the side of blood-traitors and useless creatures and even more useless people?” She asked finally, her dark eyes boring into Draco’s. “What about wanting power?”

Draco knew what she was talking about; from the time they’d been tiny, they’d been inseparable, so certain of their futures, of their togetherness. How could he possibly tell her that he’d changed? That he didn’t want those things anymore?

Hermione, for her part, did not interrupt; she just listened. She felt like she was intruding on something private, something she shouldn’t be seeing.

“Things are different now, Pansy. I care about you, but… I can’t live this life anymore. We’re not kids anymore, and I can’t keep pretending that we’re the best and brightest anymore.” His voice broke, and Hermione could’ve sworn she saw his eyes turn red.

“Isn’t there more to life than this? Serving our parents, and Voldemort? What will it lead to?”

Pansy shook her head, biting her lip. She knew that if anyone overheard them, their families would be furious. Draco had changed, and become someone entirely different. Someone who danced with Hermione Granger, a Mudblood, in his own parents’ home, and loved her. It didn’t make any sense to her.  
When had their paths diverged so completely and insidiously? When they were children, they’d been all but certain of their future, the next generation of Wizarding rulers. Yet now his heart belonged to Granger, the brightest witch of their age.

“You’re really serious, aren’t you, Draco?” Pansy asked, and the longing that Hermione could hear in the other girl’s voice stung. How odd, that in this moment Draco was leaving something behind and she felt competitive.

But Draco knew that it wasn’t him, she wanted, not really. It was more the longing for the past that he heard in the voice of his former friend, and he couldn’t fault her for that, for wanting simpler times.

Moral gray area was exhausting.

“I’m sorry to say that I am, Pansy. And I’m sorry things can’t be the way they were. But I can’t keep pretending that I’m completely their son, because things are different now. Your friendship has meant a lot to me, but I love Hermione, and it’s not going anywhere.”

The truth was, he was tired, but most of all, of hiding. And the least he owed Pansy was the truth, even if it meant that he hurt her.

Pansy met Draco’s eyes, and she stared at Hermione as if she didn’t know quite what to make of her. She stood up, and began to walk toward the door, her hips swaying. For a few moments, in the moonlight, she seemed gilded, touched from within by a mysterious, bright light.

She looked to Draco like something out of a storybook, one that he no longer knew the ending to. Her eyes were dark, deep, and sad, and with a bittersweet smile at Hermione, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

The words still floated in the air, and Hermione looked at Draco.

“Did you mean all of that, Draco?”

“Of course, I did, Jean,” Draco replied. He sounded so tired, so much older than his fifteen years. “I can’t pretend anymore, especially not with her. She was the first person who was my friend. Who I loved, aside from my parents.”

Hermione walked over to him and embraced him, and for a single moment, he hugged her. He longed to put his head in her shoulder and weep, but he did not.

“Come on. We have to get back to the party before my parents realize that we’re gone.”

Draco’s face was expressionless, blank even to Hermione. Fear formed in her heart; she’d just witnessed him essentially breaking up with his dearest childhood friend, and she couldn’t crush the guilt that had gripped her heart.

She couldn’t help but feel like this separation, though inevitable, was her fault.

**


	16. A Bold Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 16, A Bold Challenge, is live! In this chapter, Hermione and Draco emerge from the library and attempt to go back to the masquerade ball, only for their entry to be blocked by a stranger familiar to Draco. Who is this mysterious stranger and what does he want with Draco and Hermione?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day to all who celebrate it! First of all, I want to say I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update! My life has, somehow, gotten even busier than it was last year, lol! Between reading, writing, working and taking care of my family, the last two and a half months have been absolutely crazy. But I promise I haven't forgotten about you all! I've missed you so much! Chapter sixteen, A Bold Challenge, is now live! And I really, really hope you all love it because I've been thinking about this chapter for a long time. I hope I've done it justice and made you all proud! No sexy times for this chapter, but I can promise you all that more is coming soon! I'm working up to it. ;) As always, kudos and comments are welcome! Enjoy, everyone! I love you all, and this story wouldn't have been written if it weren't for you. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 16: A Bold Challenge

Draco tried to hide how shaken he was, but he had a feeling that Hermione knew. How could she not? He’d just said goodbye to his best friend, and he couldn’t avoid it for much longer.

They left the library, and he could still hear the party, in full swing. It reminded him of one of Hermione’s favorite Muggle books, The Great Gatsby, something echoing in his head about green lights and distant shores. He was so numb he could barely register her hand in his. He could see her lips moving, but it was as if she was speaking another language.

Nothing got through for those first few minutes; just walking felt like too much work.

He’d been so happy to bring Hermione into his house; truth be told, he’d never even considered seeing his other friends from Hogwarts over the holiday.

He definitely hadn’t thought that all the way through, but he couldn’t regret it, even with the heartache that he felt. That conversation had been long overdue, and he’d been more than happy to put it off.

He felt like a monster; he’d crossed a line he would never be able to step across again.

How was it humanly possible, that he felt so much all at once?

He was brought back to himself when he found the entryway to the dining hall blocked by a tall, slender silhouette. The boy in the bear mask stood there, blocking their way. He was a few inches taller than Draco, and his smile was predatory.

“Don’t you lovebirds look cozy?” He drawled, eyes glinting in his mask like black gems. The voice was deep, rich, and Draco tightened his shoulders, straightened his posture.

No one knew it, but he’d painted a target on his own back.

Luckily for him, he had his partner by his side, and the raven and the wolf would devour the snakes and all of their enemies, one by one. And he and his parents ruled this house; at least in here, he had protection.

He felt Hermione stiffen beside him, and she squeezed his hand, as if to remind him that she was still here.

Draco smirked, tilting his head to the side, eyes narrowed.

He couldn’t allow his weakness to show in front of this mysterious stranger, regardless of the fact that his heart had broken into pieces on the inside of his ribcage.

“What business is it of yours?” He drawled, wrapping an arm around Hermione’s waist and pulling her against his side. She put her head on his shoulder, and he all but purred.

Let them try to take him down. With her by his side, what could they possibly do?

Pansy wouldn’t say a word if his instinct about her was right. He hoped and prayed that she held her secrets close while he postured with the boy who wore the face of a bear.

“What’s it to you?” He asked, raising his brows, twisting his lips into a mocking simper. “Surely you wouldn’t have trouble finding your own…” He paused, snickering, “Paramour?”

Hermione gave a sweet, tinkling laugh that sent chills up his spine; how was it that he didn’t have to say a word to her, that she just knew?

“Oh, there certainly is a fantastic display of male and female beauty, but I wanted to see the couple of the night. A raven and a wolf; a strange combination, wouldn’t you say?” The boy replied. Draco was only buying time; he could not get a read on this guy. Something about him felt familiar, but he couldn’t figure out exactly who he was.

Even he couldn’t remember the constant stream of people who’d passed in and out of his life, fleetingly and otherwise. Especially not the people his own age.

“A raven may be a bird, but it’s not without protection,” Hermione purred, speaking for the first time. “Its claws and beak are sharp.” She stopped, smiling, as if giving the boy an invitation to test that out for himself.

 

In that moment, Draco was fiercely, furiously proud of her. How could he have ever doubted that she could handle herself among his people?

The boy gazed at Hermione, then his dark eyes swung back to Draco. His bright white smile never wavered. It was so wide that it was bordering on psychotic.

“Word on the street is you’re thinking about leaving,” The boy said, and his voice dripped with false sympathy. “Why would you abandon all of this wealth and pageantry? After all, it was what you were born to.”

In an instant, Draco realized who was standing in front of him, the realization sending every nerve on high alert.

Blaise Zabini. The boy had been sorted into Slytherin the same year Draco had. He’d been content to stay in the background; he was pretty much the polar opposite of Draco. He preferred to work things from behind the scene; the better to pin it all on a sap, a scapegoat.

The other boy was a shadow, in every sense of the word.

“Does that bother you?” Draco asked, his voice so low he could barely be heard over the music. “The fact that I’ve been born into this and don’t want it anymore? People change.”

He almost said Blaise’s name, but he stopped himself in the nick of time. The conversation with Pansy was already too much, and he felt too vulnerable, even here, in his family home.

No, he simply wasn’t ready for that conversation right now.

Blaise tossed his head back, laughing uproariously.

“We both know that answer doesn’t matter.”

Draco had already felt his heart crumble to dust once that night, but Blaise’s response felt like nothing less than a punch to the gut.

Did any of his friends even have a remote chance of escaping their families, and by extension, the stranglehold that Voldemort had over them all?

He knew how lucky he was, that he’d found Hermione. If he hadn’t, he would’ve likely been in the exact same position that Blaise was in now.

Hermione, for her part, was staring at Blaise, lips parted, her brow furrowed the way it was when she was deep in thought.

“No, I suppose not,” He replied at last, and shook his head. He pulled on Hermione’s hand gently, as if to lead her away from Blaise.

But he stood still in the doorway, and his hand found Draco’s arm, holding it in a vise grip.

“You’ll live to regret this defection, Draco Malfoy, by my hand or another’s.”

**


End file.
